


Trust

by rynwho



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, F/M, Post 5x05, raven thinks its kinda cute, zeke is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14801501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rynwho/pseuds/rynwho
Summary: Zeke feels guilty so he takes care of Raven. Post 5x05.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i suck at summaries and also it's my first fic ever  
> i'm kind of embarrassed but i really want a scene like this and i know jroth hates me or whatever  
> so here's me writing my feelings instead  
> (also i hope its not ooc so if it is im sorry)

* * *

 

It’s been roughly five hours since Diyozah had her locked up in this suffocatingly small cell after their little show up there. Raven only hopes they were convincing enough because it’s too quiet now and she wonders if Murphy even made it out in time and if all her friends are still in one piece. She shivers and exhales and tries to shake off the knot forming in the pit of her stomach, assuring herself that they are because she can’t afford to think otherwise.

 

Besides the metal bench she’s sitting on, the room is pretty much empty. Not that it can fit anything else anyway. She manages to calm down through the breathing exercises she read about from the books she found in the ark but it’s getting increasingly difficult and the shock collar doesn’t help at all. She would’ve made a run for it before but she knew that physically, she couldn’t fight the guards alone without a weapon. Also, she didn’t really want to be electrocuted again.

 

She’s trying to figure out how to deactivate the device on her neck, pulling and twisting and grunting whenever it scrapes her skin. When she hears a small knock on the door, her head quickly shoots up and she lets her fingers fall back to her sides while her heartbeats steadily accelerate.

But then again, who the hell knocks on a prisoner’s door?

 

“Raven?”

Zeke’s voice is low and patient, as if he’s asking for permission to come in. Relief washes over her and her shoulders immediately relax as she releases the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She still isn’t sure if she can trust him, but he _is_ the only person in this ship that doesn’t want her dead at least.

So she sits a little straighter and with a firm voice she answers, “Unless you’re here to take this goddamn collar off me then don’t bother.”

Zeke may have saved her from further torture earlier, and yes, he may have helped her with her plan to get Murphy out, but technically speaking, he’s still an enemy, and she isn’t about to let her guard down just yet.

 

There was a beep before the door unlocks and it creaks when he lets himself in with no weapon in sight and a tray of food in his hands.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he says, stepping closer and setting it down beside her while her eyes follow, but purely out of survival instincts, her hands stay put, even though she hasn’t had anything to eat for the entire day.

He simply watches as she eyes the small pile of fruits with clear hesitation, eyebrows furrowing until he remembers this is the same girl who locked him out of his own system, the same girl who outwitted them in a matter of seconds by opening the pods and forcing them to close back the doors. And he realises she’s probably counting the chances of being poisoned. He can hear her stomach growling but she turns to look away and he knows it’s because she’d rather die fighting than fooled.

 

“Can I trust you?” she asks seriously.

“That’s up to you.”

“Just answer the question.” She’s looking at him now and he can see just how tired she is.

 

With amusement in his eyes, he reaches for a grape and pops it in his mouth and she almost rolls her eyes at his smugness.

“So, is this a peace offering?” she asks. There was a playfulness in the way she said it that made him chuckle.

“From me, yeah.”

She huffs.

“Well, if you’re not gonna eat, I’ll gladly take it back…” he offers.

He’s bluffing though, because for some strange reason, he wouldn’t really let her die. Maybe it’s because he can’t accept the fact that someone actually beat him in his own game and it intrigues him more than he likes to admit, or maybe it’s because she’s both incredibly brilliant and intimidatingly beautiful that it may just be morally wrong to not keep her alive.

 

When Raven places the tray on her lap and begins eating, he takes a few slow steps forward so that he’s standing right in front of her where her knees are touching his upper thigh. She stills and gives him a questioning stare before his hands reach out to the collar around her neck, fingertips grazing her skin as he carefully tries to unbind it.

He doesn’t fail to notice how she stops moving completely and he takes it as a permission to get a closer look. So, he does. She can feel his breath on the spot just a little above her chest and suddenly the room seems even smaller than before.

 

Finally, after a few minutes of fumbling with the lock, the collar loosens and he gently pulls it off. Her hands instantly make their way to her neck and she hisses when it burns at the contact. He can clearly see the damage now, red marks and scratches where the collar once covered and he is flooded with guilt but he bites back an apology because he figures she’ll just shoot him another glare.

 

“Don’t move,” he orders softly. From his pockets, he pulls out a damp cloth and a small tube of some ointment she’d never heard of and lays them out to her left.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she manages, a little breathier than she hoped, but she obliges anyway.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he adds, lifting his palms up in defence. The question claws at her again–does she trust him? Not exactly, but the burns really fucking hurt and anything will be a hell of a lot better than nothing. So, she shifts further to the edge of the seat with both her hands flat on the bench at her sides.

He’s aware of how close she is now, her face merely inches away and her eyes burning into his with an unreadable expression that he almost forgot what he came here to do.

 

Slowly, he eases the damp cloth on the visible marks on her neck. Her eyes close and her face scrunches as a low sigh escapes her lips. Then he decides to apologise anyway.

“I’m sorry about this,” he says, the same sincerity in his voice as the first time.

“I’ve been through worse,” she shrugs.

His eyes follow hers when it darts to her leg brace. He has so many questions but it isn’t the right time so he keeps his mouth shut and only hopes that they meet again after all this is over.

 

When he starts applying the cream, he makes sure to be extra careful, rubbing small slow circles on her skin while she studies him. It feels intimate but he’s gentle and he’s warm so she really doesn’t mind. She lets her eyes scan through the tattoos on his arms and one in particular catches her attention.

“Nice tattoo,” she says, her gaze stuck on the inked design of a bird.

He glances at her for a second and smirks. “I got it after you flipped me the bird the other day,” he jokes and it’s her turn to smile. He’s being too nice and she can’t help but question his ulterior motive.

He has none.

 

“You didn’t have to do this. You’re not even a doctor.”

“Yeah, but I’m not an idiot either. I know how to use a first aid kit,” he responds calmly.

“I can take care of myself,” she mutters.

He ignores her.

She lets his fingertips continue to trace random shapes on her neck and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he should’ve been done with it about ten minutes ago. Neither of them said a word, though.

 

“Thanks,” she finally manages, her voice barely a whisper but he hears it, and a small smile quickly makes its way to the corner of his lips.

“Don’t thank me,” he replies, his eyes darting to her lips for a split second before looking up. “I’ll find a way to get you out too.”

And he’s _genuine_.

She decides that maybe it’s nice to be the one taken care of for once.

 

After he finishes and her neck no longer burns as much, he packs the things back into his pockets and heads for the door. She can’t ignore how it’s cold again, and she’d never tell him this but she actually appreciates his company.

“Wait,” she calls out, stopping him in his tracks before he turns around to face her.

 

“I need a favour,” she pauses and he raises an eyebrow as he waits, “If I’m gonna be stuck in here, I’d rather _not_ freeze to death,” she states, giving him a pointed look.

He laughs. It’s a nice laugh. His eyes crinkle and his head tilts down that it’s kind of cute.

“Of course.”

 

When the door closes, she doesn’t hear the lock.

 

* * *

 


End file.
